


such a lovely place

by novembrs



Category: Great Pretender (Anime)
Genre: (kind of), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cockwarming, Deepthroating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Kissing as a diversion, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post Case 2: Singapore Sky, Undercover as a Couple, edamura is a bastard who is also laurent's entire world, laurent is a big softie, they are just big softies for one another okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26373358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novembrs/pseuds/novembrs
Summary: Makoto Edamura finds himself joining Laurent for another con right after the events of Singapore. What begins as a simple favor turns into something so much more.(title from the song "Hotel California" by Eagles)
Relationships: Edamura Makoto/Laurent Thierry
Comments: 41
Kudos: 860





	such a lovely place

It was supposed to be a one-time thing. Makoto was supposed to help out in Singapore and then go back to trying to build a normal life for himself, desperately ignoring Laurent's endless invitations to his cons. He even booked a ticket to Nice and packed his bags, ready to leave once the others fished him and Abby out of the river. And probably after the celebration because Cynthia would never forgive him if he left before that.

All things considered, Makoto was supposed to be long gone and not standing by Laurent's side, dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit and holding a glass of even more ridiculously expensive champagne. Makoto glanced up at the Frenchman next to him.

He looked good, way too good for such an irritating man. His blond hair was slicked back, his black three-piece suit a perfect fit on his lean body and Makoto discovered a new feeling Laurent awaked in him – self-loathing. It was a thing, right? That someone was so attractive that it made you feel like crap about your own looks. It probably even had a name.

A few days prior, just as Makoto was getting ready to excuse himself from the celebration, Laurent approached him with a proposition. Apparently, Cynthia had her eyes on a notorious gang leader in Berlin (or, more precisely, on his money) and needed some help.

Makoto was going to repeat his usual answer of _Thank you, but I'll have to pass_ , but Laurent insisted he wasn't trying to get him to join the con, he just needed a partner for an undercover job. Makoto was certain Laurent knew many people who were more than capable of playing dress up and pretending to be someone else, but – and he was sure this was all due to the alcohol in his blood and the adrenaline from all the action on that day – Makoto decided to come along. He also chose to ignore the spark of joy he saw in Laurent´s eyes after he said yes.

So, there he was, in an extravagant 19th century mansion in Berlin filled with all kinds of super famous and notorious people he has never heard of, totally not ending up dragged into another con.

He felt Laurent's eyes on him.

“Could you please stop sulking?” he asked, amused. “The other guests are going to think we're having a domestic.”

Oh, yes, Makoto almost forgot. Laurent and Cynthia decided to use fake names this time, as the party they were infiltrating invited criminals and VIPs from around the world, some of which might have heard of a Cynthia Moore or a Laurent Thierry from their other _not-so-important-anymore_ friends they managed to con in the past. That's how Makoto ended up as Professor Thomas Miller and Laurent assumed the identity of one lovely Charity Anderson, the Professor's mistress (in this case, lover).

Makoto didn't even have time to make fun of Laurent for the ridiculous name because he dragged him out to do some shopping in preparation for the party. They both ended up getting Armani suits, though Makoto still felt like a shabby journalist who struggles to get his columns printed. Though Laurent did tell him he looked like “the sexy end of the scruffy spectrum”, whatever the hell that even meant.

“I'm not sulking,” Makoto snapped back at the man and sipped his champagne, sulking. He felt Laurent eyes on his temple, practically piercing him like an arrow.

He sighed and looked at Laurent again. “You told me I wouldn't get involved in this.”

Laurent's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. “But you aren't? Practically, even I am just a bystander. This is Cynthia's gig.”

“And we're just her little helpers, got it,” Makoto murmured, still irritated, though he wasn't sure _why_ he was even annoyed anymore.

He felt Laurent's palm on the small of his back and stiffened. It was only then that he realised this was the first time in months that Laurent had touched him in any way. The man was always throwing him flirtatious looks and had basically no idea what personal space was, but almost never touched Makoto inappropriately. Makoto was usually thankful for that, but now, Laurent's palm felt warm and comforting, even though layers of clothing.

“If this isn't enough action for you, I could set you up with your own con right away,” Laurent's breath tickled him on his neck as he whispered into his ear and Makoto couldn't hold back a smile.

“You never give up, do you?” he asked and turned his head to face him. They were really close like this, mere inches apart and Makoto felt a strange comfort in that.

Despite Makoto's utmost efforts, he never grew to dislike Laurent. He was irritating and a giant flirt, yes, but he was also kind and gentle, never overstepping his bounds and always remaining respectful not just to him, but to Cynthia and Abby as well. He was someone Makoto trusted and could rely on (though he never forgave him for leaving him out of important decisions like faking his and Abby's death back in L.A.) and he couldn't help but relax next to him.

Looking back years ago, he never imagined he would be able to look at Laurent and feel something other than anger. The man was still annoying, though and Makoto hated he couldn't see through him at all. He sometimes wondered whether Laurent's behaviour towards him was purely to get Makoto to work with him or whether there was something more going on. Judging by what he heard from Cynthia and Abby, though, the man had an appetite and never stayed by a person's side for long. Even if Makoto wanted what Laurent did, he couldn't expect he was anything special to Laurent.

“On you? Never,” Laurent smiled and his palm left his lower back.

Makoto didn't feel like addressing how good Laurent's touch felt and touched his earpiece instead. “Cynthia, how are things looking on your end?”

“She can't talk right now,” Abby replied instead. “The exchange seems to be going smoothly so far.”

“Tell me again why you're the one watching the security cameras and I'm here mingling with rich people?” Makoto asked, trying not to sound too grumpy. Their relationship seemed to have finally stabilised after Singapore and Makoto didn't want to lose her friendship over his baseless whining. 

“You're the best at making shit up,” she said simply and Makoto could practically see her shrugging. “Plus, I could never sell being a couple with that blond himbo.”

Makoto covered his mouth with the back of his hand and snickered.

“You do realise our earpieces are Bluetooth connected, right?” Laurent said, feigning annoyance. A small pout appeared on his face. _That_ shouldn't have been as cute as it was.

A quiet scratching sound came from Makoto's earpiece and he frowned at Laurent. Shortly afterwards, he heard Cynthia's distorted voice. “The exchange's not happening, we're leaving.”

Makoto's frown deepened, anxiety clutching at his chest. “Wait, what do you mean? What happened?”

“The guy recognised me, we have to leave _right now_ ,” she was almost shouting at this point and Makoto saw Laurent take out his earpiece with a pained expression on his face.

“But how did he recognise you? You said you guys never met,” Makoto continued, raising his voice himself.

“I accidentally told him my real name,” Cynthia said, her voice straining as she ran. Makoto and Laurent exchanged glances.

“Why did you do that?” Laurent asked her, his voice surprisingly calm.

“I don't know, it just slipped out, I'm not used to fake names,” Cynthia groaned and Laurent smiled.

Makoto sighed. “What about the artefact, do you still have it at least?”

There was silence on the other side.

“Cynthia?” Makoto tried again and gripped his champagne glass.

No response. Makoto shot Laurent a worried look.

Laurent reached out and touched his shoulder. “Wait.”

After what felt like hours, a voice finally filled Makoto's ear. It was Abby.

“It's alright, guys, she's with me.”

Makoto closed his eyes and exhaled, his shoulders slumping. When he looked up at Laurent, there was once again an easy smile on his lips.

“Care to enlighten us, Abby?” Laurent asked.

“She had to run through the kitchen and climb over a wall, so she's a little out of it right now,” Abby said nonchalantly. “She has the artefact. But not the money.”

“That doesn't matter anymore,” Laurent said and looked at Makoto. “We'll make our way to you right now.”

Laurent reached out to take Makoto's half empty champagne glass, but Makoto held it to his chest. Laurent blinked in surprise.

“Edamame?”

“Abby,” Makoto said, staring at the floor, “where is he right now?”

“He's still in his office,” she replied, her voice wary.

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

Makoto smiled.

“Edamame,” Laurent said again, curious. “What are you planning?”

Makoto had no idea. Maybe it was the champagne, or Laurent's hand on his shoulder, or the fact that he wanted to see that look in Laurent's eyes that always gets him to say yes again, but he didn't want to leave just yet. Not when there was an opportunity like this.

“I think,” Makoto said finally and looked at Laurent, “we can still get the money.”

There was a spark in Laurent's eyes which Makoto recognised, and his usual smile changed, his expression forming into something like fondness. His eyes became slightly hooded then, and for a moment, Makoto's face heat up.

He thought back to the first time he felt like this, when he flew himself to Los Angeles with Laurent and he bought a suit for him. That look in the mirror as Laurent slipped a pen into his breast pocket; the familiar heat building up in his face and chest as Laurent watched him through the mirror, his chest pressed against his back.

Makoto shook his head to chase away the thoughts and drank the last drops of his champagne. He gave Laurent a smile and winked. “Just follow me, alright?”

Just as Laurent was about to speak (Makoto wasn't sure whether he wanted to ask him something or reply), Makoto threw the empty champagne glass on the marble floors and the sound of it shattering filled the room.

The multiple conversations in the room paused and dozens of eyes turned to them. Makoto felt adrenaline rush through him as he took a step towards Laurent and stared him down.

“How dare you, bastard!” he shouted, feeling a vein in his neck pop. “I pay for you, I give you everything your little selfish heart could ever wish for and this is how you show your gratitude?! Don't think I'm just gonna let this slide like I always do! You embarrassed me for the last time, I'm done with you!”

Laurent took a small step back, holding both of his hands in front of him in an attempt to shield himself from Makoto's anger. Makoto raised his hand and slapped Laurent's champagne glass out of his hand.

“D-Darling, please, calm down,” Laurent stuttered, and Makoto almost broke the act. His accent was much thicker than usual, and his flustered face mixed with genuine confusion over Makoto's actions made him so _endearing_ to look at. Makoto made a mental note to never mention it to him, though.

“I am perfectly calm!” Makoto yelled, his throat straining, and felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see an older gentleman with the appearance of a cartoon butler, looking at him with a worried expression.

“My apologies, sir, but if I could ask you to keep it down, I-.”

“Don't touch me!” Makoto yelled and violently shook off his hand. “This is between me and this scumbag,” he pointed a finger to Laurent and turned to face him. “He's a dirty cheater! Sleeping around behind my back thinking I'm not going to find out!”

“Dear, please, it's not what you think,” Laurent tried again, reaching his hand out towards Makoto. He slapped his hand away and turned on his heel.

“I'm going to cool off, don't you dare follow me,” he said sternly, his voice breaking slightly from all the shouting.

He began walking out of the room and could hear hushed whispers around him. He shot a death glare to a group of older ladies standing in a small group by the door.

“Please, excuse him, he had a bit too much to drink, he usually doesn't behave like this,” he heard Laurent say and once he was out of the room, he finally let himself smile.

Makoto turned left and began walking down a dimly lit hallway, his eyes and ears peeled. Once he heard a familiar set of footsteps, his body instinctively relaxed. He turned to face the tall Frenchman approaching him from the end of the hallway.

Laurent raised his hands and clapped a few times. “A truly brilliant performance, Edamame. If I didn't know what you were up to, you would have me completely fooled.”

Makoto smirked. “You certainly looked shocked for a little bit there.”

Laurent put his hands in the pockets of his neatly tailored trousers and shrugged. “Anyone would be in my situation.”

Makoto raised one of his eyebrows. “Yes, certainly.”

Laurent gave him one last smile and pressed his earpiece. “Abby, can you hear me?”

“Yes. That was good, Edamame.”

Makoto couldn't help but grin at the praise.

“What are you planning?” It was Cynthia who spoke then, her voice a little strained from the running, but she seemed to have relaxed a little bit.

“My guess,” Laurent said, throwing Makoto a look from under his eyelashes (have they always been this blond? It must have been the lighting in the room), “is that Edamame here was creating a diversion.”

“Diversion? For what?” Abby asked.

Makoto pressed his pointer finger to his lips as he spoke. “I noticed it when we first got here. For a mansion of this size, they could have easily hired a band to play during the party, but they used speakers instead and played classical music at the lowest volume possible. No one ever spoke louder than the music, either.” He glanced at Laurent who was still smiling. “My guess is that our dear gang leader doesn't like loud noises.”

“So, creating a loud situation to bait him out of his office was the easiest option,” Laurent added and Makoto nodded.

“Exactly,” Makoto looked at his watch, “Abby, is he out of the office yet?”

“He's just stood up. I'm pretty sure one of his guys told him about the disturbance you guys created.”

Makoto smirked. “Excellent,” he motioned towards the hallway, “let's go to his office, then.”

“Lead the way,” Laurent said, fixing his suit jacket.

Makoto made sure Abby kept them updated on the man's position and the moment he was in the second wing of the mansion, he and Laurent slipped into his office. The room itself wasn't anything special, though the furnishing was definitely antique and worth more than anything Makoto owned, but that wasn't what they came for.

Laurent slipped past him further into the office as Makoto was checking his surroundings and made his way to the table. A black laptop was placed on it – it was popped open but locked with a password.

“Do we know what this guy's password is?” Makoto spoke into the earpiece and sat down into the office chair. Laurent positioned himself next to him, placing his hand on the chair's backrest.

“Hold on,” Abby said and Makoto heard typing. She made a quiet sound of discovery and dictated him the lengthy password slowly. Once Makoto pressed the ENTER key, the screen lit up and the laptop unlocked.

Makoto took a deep breath. “Alright, what account should I send the money to?”

“We have a few secure accounts we could use, I'll send them to Laurent's phone,” Cynthia said and paused for a moment.

“I can throw in some charities, if you'd like,” she chirped and Makoto smiled.

“You know me, of course I would like that,” Makoto heard Laurent puff out a breath in a quiet laugh.

Makoto felt heat rise in his cheeks but chose to ignore it for the moment as he worked on distributing the money to the accounts Cynthia sent him. Laurent held his phone in front of his face so Makoto could transcribe the numbers more efficiently.

Abby would occasionally jump in to inform them on the man's whereabouts, checking the building's security cameras. Makoto told her to let them know when he would enter the side of the mansion where his office was, so they could make their escape in time.

Once the money had been sent out and half of the zeroes on his bank account were gone, Makoto finally relaxed. He felt Laurent's hand on his shoulder and looked up.

“Good work, Edamame,” Laurent said quietly and smiled.

Makoto nodded, attempting an awkward smile in return. When will he finally stop being awkward and learn to muster a proper reaction to Laurent's words of praise?

“We should probably delete the history of the transactions,” Cynthia said and it immediately brought Makoto back.

“How long will it take?” he asked.

“Ten minutes, give or take.”

Makoto's throat tightened. “Ten minutes? That's too much! What if he returns before that?”

“Then we'll have to come up with a distraction. I'm sure you'll think of something,” Laurent assured him and winked.

Makoto glared at him, but still pressed the correct keys to begin the deletion process. A small box appeared on the screen, with a red “0%” and a green loading bar that moved excruciatingly slow.

Makoto tugged at his hair desperately. “This is going to take forever!”

“Take it easy, Edamame, it's going to be fine,” Laurent said easily, leaning his back against the bookshelf behind them, arms crossed on his chest.

Makoto exhaled and tried to compose himself, but then he heard Abby's voice in his earpiece.

“Guys,” she said quietly, “he's coming back.”

Makoto stiffened. He and Laurent exchanged looks, though Makoto felt the Frenchman's expression was way too calm considering their current position. If they get caught, they're done for. Cynthia might have managed to escape, but if he finds the two of them stealing his money after the disturbance they caused at the party…Makoto didn't even want to think of what he's going to do to them.

Makoto's fingers trembled as he pressed his earpiece. “Abby, how long before he reaches the office?”

The loading bar was now at 10 percent. It wasn't enough and Makoto's terrible excuse of a plan will probably fail, but it was worth a try. If he was good at anything, it was this.

“Five or six minutes, tops,” she answered and for the first time that day, Makoto heard a tinge of worry in her voice. “Are you going to be alright?”

Makoto glanced at Laurent and stood up. “Turn off the security cameras in the office for a bit, please.”

Laurent frowned, confusion slowly spreading across his face. Makoto was beginning to develop a fondness for that expression. Or perhaps the act of doing the unexpected in order to see that expression on Laurent's face. Either of those, Makoto didn't really have the time to figure out which one it was yet.

He grabbed Laurent's arms and pulled him towards him. He lifted himself up and sat down on the table (he was certain it was mahogany; stupid rich bastard, Makoto was glad they were stealing from him), spreading his legs to bring Laurent closer to him. Laurent fell forward and pressed flush against Makoto's chest.

Laurent looked down at Makoto, his eyes wide and ridiculously blue even in the dim light of the office. “Edamame, what are you-.”

Makoto grabbed Laurent's tie and pulled him down, their lips connecting in a clumsy kiss. Makoto kept his eyes open, checking for Laurent's reaction. To his surprise, the confusion in the blond man's eyes disappeared almost instantly as his eyes slipped shut. Laurent pressed himself against Makoto, placing his hands on the table by Makoto's head for balance.

Laurent kissed him back and Makoto's brain short-circuited. He lost himself in the kiss for a moment, digging his fingers into the folds of Laurent's suit jacket. It didn't surprise him Laurent was a good kisser – he had ten times the experience Makoto had. He was, without a doubt, the best kisser Makoto had ever been with.

They separated after a short moment and Laurent opened his eyes again. The gentleness in his face made Makoto's chest tighten. Laurent's eyes travelled down Makoto's face to his lips and leaned in to kiss him again, but Makoto's palm on his chest stopped him.

Laurent gave him a questioning look. “What's wrong?”

“You have to watch the screen,” Makoto said, suddenly breathless. His face felt uncomfortably hot, Laurent's breath on his cheek, his narrow waist in between his thighs. Laurent's belt buckle was dangerously pressed down on his crotch and Makoto felt as if he was trapped, afraid to move another inch.

“The history, we have to delete it in time.”

Laurent smiled down at him and leaned down to drag his lips across Makoto's jaw, procuring a quiet gasp from Makoto. “Of course, darling, leave it to me.”

Makoto opened his mouth to say something, but Laurent's lips covered his once again. This time, it was Makoto who returned to kiss. Laurent's body shifted and moved against him as they kissed. Makoto was certain he was going to lose his mind.

He tightened the grip of his thighs on Laurent's hips and wrapped his legs around him to secure him in place.

Laurent interrupted their kiss to raise an eyebrow at Makoto, who felt his face heat up. “You're moving around too much.”

“You do have that effect on me,” Laurent smiled and kissed him again, pressing his hips against Makoto's still. What an asshole.

“Asshole,” Makoto grumbled in between Laurent's kisses and grabbed the back of his head. He slipped his tongue into Laurent's mouth with ease, as the moment the tip of his tongue touched Laurent's bottom lip his mouth immediately opened in submission.

Suddenly, a thought popped up in the back of Makoto's mind. It has always been there, in the form of an unanswered question; one he has wanted to answer for years. He didn't know why it took him so long to realise, perhaps because he was too oblivious or because he never really bothered to look deeper into it. But in that moment, he finally understood.

Laurent really liked him.

Well, _of course_ he liked him. He sought him out in Japan, went to pick him up in person, involved dozens of people to help him execute his plan, all of that just to recruit him. He flirted with him relentlessly, but never too much for Makoto to feel uncomfortable, always left him the option to decline his offer and never got angry when Makoto turned him down or ignored him.

Makoto always assumed it was because of what the girls told him – that Laurent “fucked anything standing upright” (according to Abby), that he aimed his flirtations on almost everyone even remotely attractive and most importantly, he never really meant it, especially when it came to the people he worked with. That would, obviously, also include Makoto.

He never felt he was special to Laurent in this regard. Makoto never even considered himself interesting enough to have Laurent's complete attention. Makoto was never that to anyone.

But in that moment, when Laurent was kissing him in a gang leader's office, with Makoto holding onto him, pulling him closer, Makoto was close to finally realising it. 

Laurent really _really_ liked him.

And Makoto had no idea what to do.

Laurent grinded his hips against him and Makoto let out a gasp. He felt a familiar tension rise in his thighs and abdomen. He held onto Laurent's shoulder, pushing him away gently.

“Wait, Laurent-.”

“We're on 60 percent now,” Laurent said and looked down at Makoto. His blue eyes were dark, his eyelids hooded. Makoto's head was spinning; must have been from the lack of oxygen.

“How- how much time has passed?” Makoto stuttered, trying to look at the screen, but the angle didn't allow him.

“I have no idea,” Laurent said, dragging his fingers across Makoto's jaw, down to the point of his chin. He lifted his face up and looked into his eyes. “I'll let you know when I hear footsteps.”

And with that, he leaned down to kiss him again. Makoto's eyes slipped shut and he kissed back. The weight of Laurent's lean, yet sturdy body against his felt too good, his lips moving against his own, so soft and warm; Makoto couldn't remember the last time he felt so relaxed. To think that a man who, not so long ago, was the main source of his stress and frustration was now making him feel this good. Makoto was almost prepared to accept this whole thing as a mere product of his imagination.

Not that he ever imagined Laurent on top of him before. That was definitely not the case. Not at all.

Makoto heard it at the same time as Laurent did and they both paused. Laurent lifted himself up and listened. After a few seconds of silence, there was no doubt – there was a sound of footsteps approaching the office from the left. The boss and his underlings were coming back into his office. Makoto felt anxiety creep up on him again and looked at Laurent, seeking his usual easy smile.

Thankfully, Laurent looked as calm and collected as always and Makoto felt himself relax a little bit.

Laurent leaned in, his lips so close to Makoto's that it would not require any additional movement from either of them to kiss. “We're at 80 percent, Edamame. Let's keep this up for a little bit longer, hm?”

Makoto let out a sound of agreement and then they were kissing again. Laurent's movements appeared to be much more rushed (or perhaps desperate?) than before, moving his hips against Makoto's in slow circles.

Makoto wrapped his arms around Laurent's shoulders, bringing him closer. Then, without even realising it, he lifted his hips and grinded up against Laurent. A soft moan travelled from the back of Laurent's throat and sent vibrations into Makoto's mouth. It took all that was left of Makoto's self-control not to moan himself.

He felt the line of Laurent's cock against his hip. He stopped and pulled away from the kiss. “Laurent, are you serious? Why are you hard right now?”

“That's a bold question coming from someone who's in the same boat as me,” Laurent smirked.

Makoto felt his face heat up at the remark and he knew he was beet red. He sputtered and tried to speak, but no words came out. Laurent leaned down and planted a kiss on Makoto's neck. Makoto felt his half-hard dick twitch in his pants.

He threw his head back and finally let out a quiet moan. At that exact moment, the door to the office flew open.

Laurent pulled away from him in an instant and Makoto tried his best not to whine at the loss of contact. He jumped off the table and dusted off his crumbled jacket, successfully, keeping up the act. Which was the reason they kissed in the first place, Makoto had to remind himself.

“It seems I'm interrupting you,” said the man standing at the door with his hands propped on his hips. He had the look of an old mafia boss with a weird fetish and an obsession with antiques – pretty much exactly who he really was. His companions – three giant men - were standing behind him in the hallway.

“Care to explain what's going on here?”

Makoto cleared his throat. “Well- uh, we were just-.”

“We apologise for the disturbance we caused,” Laurent jumped in and for once, Makoto was glad. He was usually good at talking himself out of situations (and considering this was his idea, he should have been prepared, but his legs were wobbly and his head was spinning), but if Laurent was good at anything, it was getting Makoto out of uncomfortable moments such as this.

“We had an argument over something stupid and it seems our emotions got the better of us,” Laurent continued, laughing nervously.

“So you decided to fuck it out in my office, is that it?” the man said, his voice hard.

Makoto stiffened and glanced up at Laurent. He must have been feeling the same as him, as his expression was unusually cold. Makoto resisted the urge to grab Laurent's sleeve.

Was the plan going to fail, after all? They should have just left, but Makoto just wanted to impress Laurent again, like a dumbass. They could have just tried to sell the artefact to someone else later, there were hundreds of old antique collectors who would probably pay much more if Cynthia worked her magic on them. Instead, they were going to get killed for Makoto's carelessness. This was the end.

Makoto looked at the man in front of them. He watched his stone-cold expression turn soft, a small smile appearing on his lips. Makoto frowned.

His smile turned into a grin and then, for some unknown reason, he was laughing. Makoto and Laurent exchanged confused looks. Hold on. Did they get away with it?

“Oh, please, don't look so scared,” the man wiped the tears forming in the corners of his eyes as his laughter died out. “When I was your age, I sneaked out of social gatherings all the time. Don't worry about it.”

Laurent finally smiled again and laughed. “We're glad to hear that. But we won't be bothering you anymore. We do have some unfinished business with my partner here, so,” Laurent turned to Makoto and grabbed his hand, interlocking their fingers, “shall we go, darling?”

Makoto smiled, his shoulders finally relaxing. “Yes, we- uh, we still have a few things to talk about.”

Makoto could still hear the man's hoarse laugh even as they were picking up their coats and saying goodbye to the other guests at the front door. It was then that Makoto realised he forgot to check the screen on the laptop.

He grabbed Laurent's coat sleeve and leaned in. “Laurent, did you check the laptop?”

Laurent gave him an easy smile. “Oh, that? The history got deleted three minutes before our man arrived at the office.”

Makoto blinked. He let go of Laurent's sleeve and stared at the nearby wall for a moment, the gears in his head turning slowly.

Wait.

“ _Three minutes_?!” Makoto shout-whispered and Laurent gave him a confused look. “You mean we could have been out of there without getting caught?”

Laurent shrugged with a smile and buttoned up his coat. “You were just so into it, I couldn't bring myself to stop.”

Makoto stared at him in disbelief. He could feel his face burning up and he saw his dark red cheeks in the reflection of the glass door.

“And I must admit,” Laurent opened the door and motioned for Makoto to go out first, “I was enjoying myself as well.”

Makoto walked out of the mansion in a daze. He heard Laurent deliver his las goodbyes to the other guests and close the door but did not regain the full sense of his surroundings until they turned the corner and were standing at Abby's van.

Cynthia enveloped him in a tight hug that was all soft red hair and flowery perfume and Abby gave him a nod and a small smile, which was a lot coming from her.

“You're my hero, Edamame, I don't know how to thank you,” Cynthia squealed, pressing his face into her chest. Makoto felt a sense of déjà vu – Cynthia's hug reminded him of that time when he was a boy and his aunt came to visit from overseas. Her hug was much more aggressive, as he almost suffocated when she grabbed his head and pressed it against her big chest. Cynthia's felt much better, much more comforting, almost like a mother's embrace. _That_ Makoto tried not to think about too much.

Makoto caught a faint smell of alcohol in the air around the con woman. “Cynthia, have you been drinking?”

“She got so stressed about what was happening in the office she had to calm herself down,” Abby said, patting Cynthia's back. “Especially after we turned off the cameras.”

Makoto's face flushed. “Yeah, thanks for doing that.”

“Thank you for finishing the job,” Cynthia said, finally releasing Makoto from her tight embrace.

“I take it you're paying for delivery tonight?” Laurent chimed in, placing a hand on Makoto's shoulder. “I think Edamame and I deserve a reward after pulling this off.”

Cynthia rolled her eyes with a smile. “Your reward will be sent to your account in no time, but sure. What do you guys want?”

The small group began walking towards the main street where they left their getaway car. Makoto exhaled and watched his breath dissipate in the cold night air.

“Chinese,” Abby said simply.

“Sounds good,” Laurent agreed, walking with hands in his pockets.

“What about you, Edamame?” Cynthia turned to him.

“I'm good with anything,” he mumbled and stared at the ground. He felt Laurent's gaze on him, but he did not look up. He felt heat rise up in his face, all the way to his ears.

They will need to talk about it at one point. What happened back in the office. About how Laurent feels towards Makoto. Makoto still had no idea how to deal with it himself, didn't know how to face Laurent's feelings.

Where would happen if Makoto reciprocated? Would they begin a relationship? Or was Laurent's interest in Makoto simply physical and a one-night stand was all he was looking for? But what could a clumsy, inexperienced man like Makoto even offer a man like Laurent? He didn't know many details about Laurent's sexual escapades and it could have very well been exaggerated by others, but that still didn't erase the fact that out of the two of them, Makoto had the least amount of experience.

Sure, there were a few…things he had done in his life and he certainly wasn't a virgin like Abby thought, but what if that wasn't what Laurent was looking for? What if he liked debauching innocent young men and women and then casting them away?

All of this hang above Makoto like a dark cloud even as he was sitting on a couch in their hotel room, holding a foldable paper cup with Chinese noodles. He was only half listening to the conversation and sometimes hummed in agreement with something Cynthia said, whatever it even was.

“Edamame, are you alright?” Laurent asked him suddenly, his voice so close to his ear making Makoto flinch. He didn't even realise he sat next to him.

Makoto looked up and saw Abby and Cynthia watching him. “Ah, it's nothing. I think I'm just a little tired.”

“After everything that happened today, I would be tired too,” Cynthia agreed and placed her empty wine glass on the table. She stretched like a cat and grabbed Abby's hand.

“Come on, Abby, let's take a bath together.”

“Sure,” Abby said, letting Cynthia pull her up from the couch as she stood up.

“Let's give our boys a little bit of privacy,” Cynthia chuckled and waved at them as she was leaving the room, “Good night!”

“ _Bonne nuit_ ,” Laurent waved back and then turned to Makoto once again. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

“I- I don't,” Makoto stuttered, but Cynthia's words still probed at his brain. He turned to Laurent in a panic. “Wait, what did Cynthia mean by that?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Laurent said, swirling the dark red liquid in his glass.

“I thought they didn't see us, you know,” Makoto hesitated and when Laurent raised an eyebrow at him with a smirk adorning his lips, he almost got angry again, “back at the office. They didn't, right?”

“Well, I'm sure they turned off the security cameras like you told them,” Laurent agreed, “but did you perhaps forget about our earpieces?”

Makoto felt as if all the blood in his body suddenly evaporated. With shaky fingers, he put the paper cup on the table and put his head in his hands.

“You can't be serious,” Makoto said, his own voice resonating in his ears.

“Unfortunately, I am,” Laurent said.

Makoto exhaled. “God, this is so embarrassing.”

He heard Laurent chuckle and looked at him through the gaps between his fingers. Laurent was holding his hand in front of his lips, laughing quietly. His fingers were long and thin (were they always like this? How come Makoto never noticed?), his nails perfectly trimmed.

“This isn't funny, Laurent,” Makoto whined, the heavy weight of his embarrassment practically pushing him deeper into the couch.

“But you're so cute when you're embarrassed,” Laurent said through his laughter and then Makoto felt a gentle touch on his knuckles.

He stiffened. He didn't dare move.

“Hey, Edamame,” Laurent's voice was almost a whisper, “look at me?”

Makoto had no idea why he complied. He had no idea why he did many things; ever since he met Laurent, his life was turned on its head and every time he tried to run, Laurent would have him come running back. Sometimes, the man didn't even have to say anything because Makoto simply came willingly.

There was something about Laurent, something _in him,_ that Makoto couldn't resist. And the worst part was that he didn't even hate it. He would never admit it out loud, but he enjoyed Laurent's presence, his easy smile, his constant invitations to yet another of his and Cynthia's cons, even his annoying French accent.

And no matter how much Makoto tried to lead a relatively normal and honest life, the fact that he was always prepared to leave that life behind again just to run to Laurent was constantly in the back of his mind.

Makoto slowly let his hands drop onto his thighs, his cheeks flushed. He glanced up at Laurent, whose face was once again adorned with a gentle expression. His eyes were hooded and seemed a darker shade of blue in the dim light of the hotel room.

It was only then that he realised how close Laurent was, one of his legs propped up on the couch, his hand resting on his calf. He was still dressed in his suit, but his jacket was thrown over the couch's armrest. The top three buttons of Laurent's shirt were popped open, revealing his pale neck and collarbones. Makoto never imagined he would ever look at this specific part of someone's anatomy and find it even remotely attractive, but he also never imagined he would be sitting in a suite in Berlin celebrating after he managed to successfully steal money from a gang leader by making out with a blond Frenchman.

Makoto's eyes shot up to Laurent's blue ones which were still scanning his face. He noticed it earlier as well, but his eyelashes were blond, just like his arm and chest hair. He wondered whether he was blond somewhere else, too. Makoto immediately supressed that thought.

There was something more important that needed to be addressed.

“Laurent,” Makoto spoke and he was surprised at how raspy his voice was, “can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” Laurent rested his elbow on the backrest of the couch, placing his chin into his palm. “What is it, Edamame?”

Makoto began chewing on the inside of his cheek. He had no idea how he should approach the topic. He didn't want to ask him directly, but Laurent might not get it if he just circles around it.

“Do you…mind if I kiss you again?”

Laurent's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Damn it. Makoto knew he should have asked even more directly.

Makoto opened his mouth to speak, to try and explain himself better, but he was cut off by Laurent's lips on his. Makoto's eyes immediately slipped shut and his arms wrapped around Laurent's neck as if it was the most natural thing to do. And for some reason, it really was.

Makoto leaned into the kiss, pulling Laurent closer to him. He felt Laurent's hands on his thighs, smoothing out the crumpled fabric of his suit trousers and travelling up to his hips and squeezing the soft skin there.

Makoto let out a content sound and closed the distance between their bodies on the couch. He threw one of his legs over Laurent with ease and sat down on his thighs.

Laurent looked up at him with a grin. “Wow, what a view.”

“Shut up,” Makoto said, but there was no real heat behind his words. He grabbed Laurent's face and kissed him again, deeply.

Laurent's hands moved from his hips to his chest, his practiced fingers working the buttons open. When one of Laurent's hands slipped into his shirt and the soft skin of his palm caressed his chest, Makoto shivered.

“Cold?” Laurent asked when they separated.

“No, it's- it felt good,” Makoto murmured and tilted his head back, giving Laurent better access to his neck. Thankfully, Laurent took the hint and began planting soft kisses on Makoto's jaw, neck, licking his skin all the way to his collarbone.

Makoto's fingers found their way into Laurent's hair and he squeezed just as a quiet moan left his throat.

“You did this back at the office, too,” Laurent whispered against his neck, his hot breath sending shivers across his skin. Makoto continued carding his fingers through Laurent's hair, gently scratching at his scalp. “Do you like your neck kissed?”

Makoto only managed a small nod after which Laurent's lips were once again on his neck, sucking in the tender skin. Makoto knew there will be marks left in the morning as his skin was always very prone to bruising, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

His whole body felt warm, Laurent's hands and lips were so gentle on his skin it was making him crazy. He knew they should stop and talk before things escalated and reached a point of no return (was there even such a point, though?), but Laurent's hands were skilled and he felt a familiar throbbing in his abdomen with his growing arousal.

“Laurent,” he sighed, burying his face in the blonde's hair.

“Hm?” Laurent stopped licking his collarbone and looked up at him. “What is it, darling?”

“I really want to have sex with you tonight,” Makoto said and he grinded his hips against Laurent as if to emphasize that he was serious.

Laurent's eyes darkened and his hands left Makoto's chest, moving to his ass. He squeezed the soft muscle there and moved Makoto against him again. Makoto moaned and held onto Laurent's neck. Must the man make any sort of communication so difficult?

“You're much more forward than I ever imagined.”

“I'm not a virgin, you know,” Makoto's cheeks hollowed in a pout and Laurent laughed.

“Oh, I figured. I'm not like Abby, don't worry. I just simply assumed you were still too innocent to approach me about this.”

Makoto moved back a little bit so he could look at Laurent properly. “I hope you realise I'm not doing this on a whim.”

“Oh?” Laurent smirked and Makoto punched his shoulder playfully.

“I'm being serious here, Laurent.”

“So am I,” Laurent said defensively and leaned in to plant a single kiss on Makoto's lips. “I'm glad you're finally giving in to me.”

Makoto couldn't help but smile. How could he _not_ give in? When all he ever felt when he was with Laurent was warmth and comfort? When Laurent's touches excited him as well as relaxed him? He had no idea why these feelings came over him so suddenly, without any warning, but he knew that acting upon them was the best decision he could ever make.

“I know you like me,” Makoto said quietly and reached down to unbutton the last few of Laurent's buttons, “and I'm sorry it took me so long to notice that, much less to return those feelings.”

Laurent grabbed his hand and Makoto flinched at the unexpected movement. He watched as Laurent brought his hand to his lips, placing small kisses on his fingers, across his palm. He let Makoto's palm rest against his cheek and looked up into his eyes.

“You don't have to apologise for anything, Edamame.”

A sudden rush of emotions came over Makoto and he felt tears prickling him in the corner of his eyes. He leaned down and kissed Laurent with everything he could. Laurent wrapped his hands around him, bringing their exposed chests together. The skin on skin contact sent electricity across Makoto's body and he had to fight the urge to moan at the feeling.

He had completely forgotten they were still in the living room area of the suite with the chance of Cynthia and Abby catching them at any moment. Makoto did not want to deal with another wave of embarrassment in the same night. He separated from Laurent and hugged him tight; he pressed his cheek to his temple, his lips close to Laurent's ear.

“Take me to bed, Laurent.”

Laurent stood up so suddenly that Makoto let out a yelp of surprise. He squeezed Laurent's shoulders even harder and his legs wrapped around his narrow waist, so he wouldn't drop on his ass.

“ _Jesus_ , Laurent, at least warn me before you do stuff like this,” he whispered angrily. He was sure Cynthia and Abby heard his little scream a moment ago.

Laurent held onto Makoto's hips and began carrying him to the bedroom with ease. “You can't blame me for reacting like this, my dear Edamame. I already told you – I seem to lose control of my body every time I'm near you.”

Makoto felt his face flush and he dropped his head on Laurent's shoulder. The man certainly knew how to make him flustered. Mostly because no one has ever said that to him before, no one has ever even wanted him this much before. And he knew Laurent wanted him. He might be an oblivious idiot, but he was not ignorant.

And although Makoto had always struggled with seeing past Laurent's pale blue eyes and his ever-present easy smile, in that moment, for the first time in the time he had known Laurent, he finally saw right through him.

Laurent let him down on his bed slowly, leaving Makoto alone for a moment as he went to close the door. When he turned back and stood at the foot of the bed, Makoto took a proper look into Laurent's eyes. They were hooded and dark as they travelled down Makoto's body.

Makoto swallowed thickly. So this is what hunger looked like. This is what being desired felt like. Just how long has Laurent been harbouring such feelings towards him?

Laurent let his unbuttoned shirt fall off his shoulders and Makoto took in his lean yet muscular shoulders, his nicely sculpted chest and stomach, that Makoto could only ever dream of having. When was the last time he hit the gym? Laurent definitely worked out regularly. He probably played squash or something obnoxious like that, that asshole.

Makoto's gaze travelled down Laurent's torso and stopped on a trail of blonde hair disappearing in his trousers. He felt desire rise up in him.

“Like what you see?” Laurent said quietly and unzipped his trousers, letting them fall down to his ankles. He stepped out of them and stood in front of Makoto in just his underwear.

Makoto could see the outline of Laurent's half-hard cock through the thin fabric of his briefs. He licked his lips. “Of course I do. I wouldn't be here if I didn't.”

Laurent's smile widened. “So honest, even now. Makes me want to cherish you even more.”

Makoto tilted his head to the side, a smirk on his lips. “Then how about you come here and do just that, huh?”

Laurent didn't need to be asked twice. He climbed on the bed, his hands on either side of Makoto's head. He lowered himself and captured Makoto's lips in a kiss that quickly turned passionate. Makoto didn't know where to touch first; his hands travelled up and down Laurent's naked back, his skin scalding hot against his cold fingertips.

Laurent pulled away for a moment to look into Makoto's eyes. “You're trembling. Are you nervous?”

Makoto exhaled. “No, I'm just- excited.”

Laurent smiled fondly and kissed him again. “So am I.”

Laurent's lips moved down to his jaw, his neck, his collarbone and Makoto felt as if he was floating. He never realised just how sensitive his skin was, none of his previous partners ever bothered to explore this part of him. But Laurent was different. Of course, he was. Makoto has never met (much less slept with) anyone quite like Laurent.

When Laurent ran his tongue across one of Makoto's nipples, a loud moan escaped his throat. Laurent made a satisfied sound and continued sucking on Makoto's skin, rubbing his palm over his chest.

Makoto's back arched into the touch, his dick twitching excessively in his trousers. If he doesn't take them off soon, he will have to send it to the cleaners and he did _not_ want to face the employees knowing he came in his ridiculously expensive trousers because his lover was too busy licking his chest to take them off.

Well, he could have taken them off himself in the first place but blaming it on Laurent was much easier.

Suddenly, Laurent's mouth stopped moving and Makoto looked down to see Laurent's face resting against his stomach.

“Laurent?” Makoto asked, unsure about what was happening.

“Just…let me stay like this for a little bit,” Laurent murmured against his skin, squeezing his sides. “I've wanted this for so long, I want to take it in.”

Makoto felt a tightness in his chest and he placed his hands on Laurent's head, burying his fingers in the man's soft hair. He still couldn't comprehend how he managed to keep his hair so smooth. Must have been a European thing.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that, with Laurent's head resting on Makoto's stomach, his thumbs rubbing small circles into his sides and ribs, the touch almost at the point of being ticklish, but not quite there yet.

And even though Makoto was relaxed, his erection was still trapped in both his underwear and trousers, slowly becoming uncomfortable. The additional weight of Laurent's body on top of him wasn't helping either.

He cleared his throat. “Um, Laurent?”

Laurent lifted his head slowly, a content smile playing on his lips. Makoto resisted the urge to pull him towards him and shower his entire face in kisses. He tried moving a little bit, to lift off some of the pressure on his cock, but as he did so, he felt Laurent's cock brush against him. He took in a sharp breath and Laurent chuckled.

“Impatient, are we?”

Makoto's face heat up. “And whose fault is it?”

“Oh, so we're blaming your horniness on me?” Laurent laughed again and grinded his hips against Makoto. “What should I do about my sweet little Edamame now, hm?”

Makoto tried to glare at him, but he was too caught up in the hunger of Laurent's gaze. “You could start by undressing me properly.”

Without a word, Laurent leaned down to kiss his stomach, then the trail of black hairs under his belly button. He paused just above the edge of Makoto's trousers. He looked up at him, slowly dragging the zipper down.

Makoto swallowed.

“Lift up your hips,” Laurent ordered, his voice gentle.

Makoto did as he was told and Laurent pulled both his trousers and underwear down in one swift motion. The feeling of being exposed almost made Makoto want to cover up, but he resisted. He had to remind himself that there was no reason why he should feel ashamed, not in front of Laurent.

Laurent grabbed Makoto's thighs gently and spread his legs. He positioned himself between them, planting a small kiss on Makoto's thigh.

“Tell me, Edamame, you're not a virgin, right?”

Makoto groaned, irritated. “I already told you, I'm not.”

“In what way are you a not a virgin?” Laurent asked, his face suddenly serious.

Makoto frowned. Was that seriously an appropriate question to ask with his mouth mere inches from Makoto's cock?

Makoto sighed. “I've never…had sex with a man. I mean, I've never been fucked.”

Laurent's hands caressed his thighs. A cheeky smile appeared on his lips. “Oh, so there are still some Edamame cherries left to pop.”

Makoto rolled his eyes. “God, you're so weird.”

“Would you like that, tonight?” Laurent asked, his voice low and Makoto looked at him again. “If I fucked you?”

Makoto's breath hitched and the mere idea sent a wave of arousal straight to his dick. He only managed a nod and then Laurent was leaning down, taking the tip of Makoto's cock onto his mouth.

Makoto threw his head back and moaned, loud, with no intention of lowering his voice. He was prepared to apologise to Cynthia and Abby in the morning, but for the time being, he wasn't going to feel guilty over being loud.

He looked down and watched as his cock disappeared in Laurent's mouth and then emerged again, Laurent's head bobbing up and down with practised ease. Makoto's eyes fluttered shut, taking in the feeling of Laurent's hot tongue on the slit of his cock, the smooth surface of the roof of his mouth.

Makoto looked down again just as Laurent shifted his position slightly, taking a deep breath and lowering himself down on Makoto's cock all the way to it's base. Makoto's eyes widened at the sight and he groaned. He felt the tip of Laurent's nose in his pubic hair, his cock swallowed completely by Laurent's mouth.

“ _Holy shit_ , Laurent,” Makoto breathed, his mind in a frenzy.

Of course, Makoto thought. Of course, Laurent _fucking_ Thierry of all people knew how to deepthroat.

Laurent hummed and Makoto felt Laurent's throat squeeze around his cock. Makoto threw his head back and his hands found their way into Laurent's hair. He grabbed a handful of his blonde locks and tugged as he moaned.

His back arched and he fought off the urge to thrust up into Laurent's mouth, as he didn't want to suffocate him. Laurent seemed to be in perfect control of what he was doing and that was turning Makoto on even more.

He felt familiar pressure build up in his abdomen and he squeezed Laurent in between his thighs.

“Fuck, I'm going to come,” he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as his orgasm overtook him.

Laurent pulled off Makoto's cock just in time for his come to not hit him in the back of his throat but let him spill into his mouth anyway. When Makoto came down from his orgasm, Laurent was already leaning over him again, placing small kisses on his jaw and neck.

Makoto exhaled. “That…was really good.”

Laurent chuckled, a sound which sent warmth across Makoto's skin. “I'm glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“Where did you even learn how to do that?” Makoto asked, genuinely curious. He knew Laurent had many partners before he even met Makoto (and some even after they met, he assumed) so it was almost expected he would know exactly what do to. But putting an entire dick into your mouth without gagging once was a skill in itself. Makoto knew he would never be able to pull that off.

Laurent shrugged, caressing Makoto's chest again. “I never had a gag reflex. Came in rather handy as I got older, as I'm sure you can imagine.”

Makoto nodded. Laurent smiled at him and leaned down to kiss him again. Makoto returned the kiss, tasting his own come on Laurent's lips. It shouldn't have been as erotic as Makoto found it, but it was and a new wave of arousal washed over him.

“So, shall we move on, darling?” Laurent purred as they separated, straightening up and looking down at Makoto under him.

Makoto breathed and nodded. Laurent smiled and reached over Makoto's head towards the bedside table. Makoto watched the man's chest and stomach muscles stretch above him as Laurent rummaged in the drawer. He reached up and placed his palms on Laurent's chest, caressing his pecs and nipples, running his hands down Laurent's stomach to his hips. He slipped his fingers past the waistband of his expensive underwear, dragging the stretchy fabric down across his ass.

Makoto squeezed the soft muscle there and he heard Laurent moan quietly above him. Oh, that was certainly a sound Makoto wanted to hear again.

Not tonight, he told himself and released Laurent from his grasp and let him crawl back down to eye level. There will be time for that later. Tonight, Makoto needed to be fucked senseless.

“You're driving me crazy, you know that, right?” Laurent sighed, throwing the items he retrieved from the bedside table next to Makoto. He immediately recognised lube and condoms – those, at least, Makoto understood as necessary for gay sex. He was really glad someone as experienced as Laurent was the one to do it with Makoto for the first time.

“That sentiment goes both ways,” it was Makoto's turn to smirk and he lifted himself up on his elbows. “So, what's next?”

Laurent smiled. “So eager, I love that,” when Makoto glared at him, Laurent grabbed the lube. “In order to make it comfortable for both of us, I'll need to loosen you up. With my fingers.”

Makoto nodded. He watched as Laurent popped open the bottle of lubricant and squeezed the clear liquid on his fingers. Makoto swallowed as Laurent knelt in between Makoto's legs, spreading his legs for the second time that night.

When Laurent's slicked up fingers pressed against his entrance, Makoto flinched.

“Sorry, it's a bit cold,” Laurent whispered.

Makoto lied down, exhaling deeply as Laurent pressed one of his fingers inside. His muscles were already relaxed from his orgasm, so the process wasn't as painful or uncomfortable as Makoto expected. It just…felt as if he had a finger up his ass.

He reached down and grabbed Laurent's free hand and pulled him towards him. He connected their lips in a deep kiss and hummed as Laurent's finger moved inside of him.

Before he realised, Laurent added another finger and began curling them upwards. When Laurent's fingertips brushed over a bump inside him, Makoto's back arched and he let out a loud moan. His cock twitched against Laurent's stomach and Laurent smiled against Makoto's lips.

“There,” he murmured and moved his fingers the same way as before, brushing against that spot again. Makoto squirmed beneath Laurent, his hips rolling against Laurent, seeking more.

“That- that's really good,” Makoto managed, suddenly becoming breathless. Each time Laurent's fingers pressed into him and rubbed that spot inside him, Makoto shuddered, his moans becoming ragged and his breathing irregular.

At this rate, he was going to come for the second time. He wished he could hold out until Laurent fucked him, but his practiced fingers inside felt too good. Once Laurent slipped in a third finger and the movement of his fingers sped up, it didn't take long for Makoto to climax again, his muscles spasming under the waves of his orgasm. He squeezed his eyes shut, his moans reduced to short quiet whimpers.

Once his breathing evened out and his eyes slowly opened again, he caught a glimpse of Laurent reaching to Makoto's side and then, the sound of a condom wrapper opening.

“Wait, what are you-?” Makoto began, but Laurent pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Don't worry, I'm not going to fuck you yet,” Laurent reassured him with another one of his gentle smiles. “I don't want to overstimulate you, not unless you're into that.”

Makoto chuckled. “How do you know I'm not into it?”

Laurent glanced at him, one of his eyebrows raised. “Don't tempt me, darling, or I won't let you sleep tonight.”

Makoto lied back, his limbs like jelly and muscles loose and relaxed from his second orgasm and watched as Laurent finally pulled off his underwear. Makoto wasn't surprised at Laurent's size – it was only expected that a man with his reputation would be gifted in that area. He was certainly glad Laurent took the time he did to prepare him properly; he did not want to even think about what would happen if he tried to take a dick of that size with lousy preparation.

Laurent rolled on the condom and positioned himself between Makoto's legs. One of his hands gripped the base of his cock, the other held onto Makoto's hip for balance. Laurent moved closer and pushed into Makoto's hole slowly, the blunt head of his cock slipping inside Makoto with ease.

Makoto breathed through the first moments of discomfort – not pain, as there was little to no resistance from his body – and exhaled when he felt Laurent was fully inside him. Laurent sighed contently and let himself drop on top of Makoto, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

Makoto smiled and wrapped his arms around Laurent. He nosed at his temple. “You okay?”

Laurent hummed, content. “I can't even begin to describe how good it feels inside you.”

Makoto's heart fluttered at the compliment (one that he never heard before) and relished the feeling of Laurent's cock inside him, making him feel strangely, but comfortably full.

“You smell good,” Laurent murmured and rubbed the tip of his nose against the skin on his neck.

“Oh, I borrowed your cologne this morning,” Makoto said, and realised he had completely forgotten to ask Laurent whether he could use it. Makoto didn't use any perfume himself and thought it would be easier to assume the role of a rich university professor if he used expensive French cologne, which was right there (well, in Laurent's bathroom, but still) for him to use.

“I liked the way it smells on you,” Laurent said, his voice muffled.

“You can buy me my own bottle,” Makoto suggested, only half serious.

“No,” Laurent declared. He finally lifted himself to look at Makoto. “I want you to only use mine from now on.”

Makoto blinked. “Okay?”

There was an air of possessiveness in Laurent's words, which made Makoto's heart flutter. And his dick twitch.

Laurent looked down at him, his eyes wide with surprise. “Edamame-?”

Makoto felt his face heat up. “Don't say anything!”

Laurent chuckled and Makoto squeezed down on his cock inside him. Laurent's laughter immediately ceased as he held onto Makoto's shoulder for balance. He choked out a quiet moan and Makoto has never felt more more proud of himself in his entire life.

“Edamame,” Laurent breathed, his voice desperate. “Please, I can't-.”

“Don't tell me the notorious Laurent Thierry is going to come from just this?” Makoto was probably too amused for his own good, but there was something endearing about Laurent's flustered face. Makoto noticed a soft blush on Laurent's pale cheeks and he couldn't resist grabbing the man by his cheeks and bringing him in for a sloppy kiss.

When they separated, Laurent seemed to have calmed down a little bit. “It's- it's been a while since I've done this, so please go easy on me.”

Makoto paused. “What do you mean?”

The blush on Laurent's face darkened. “I- I haven't been with anyone since I met you.”

It took Makoto a moment until he managed to fully comprehend what Laurent was saying. “H-hold on a second, Laurent, since you _met_ me? That's years!”

“Well, yes,” Laurent shrugged, trying to fight off some of his obvious embarrassment and Makoto wanted to _devour_ him.

“You've been walking around blue-balled for _years_?” Makoto teased him again, his eyes practically sparkling at this point.

Laurent sighed. “Edamame, please.”

Makoto laughed and pulled Laurent down to kiss him again. “Alright, I'm sorry,” he said in between kisses, feeling Laurent relax under his touch. He pulled away and lied back down, looking up at Laurent with a smile. “That actually made me really happy.”

Makoto reached his hand up and caressed Laurent's chest and before he could open his mouth to speak again, Makoto moved his hips in a circle, Laurent's cock sliding in and out of Makoto's hole.

Laurent's eyes rolled back and he let out a quiet groan.

“What do you say, Laurent?” Makoto whispered, his hands travelling up Laurent's arms to his shoulders. “Weren't you going to fuck me tonight?”

Before Makoto had the chance to react, Laurent gripped Makoto's hips and began thrusting into him; Makoto's mouth fell open and a string of moans filled the bedroom. It took Laurent a couple experimental thrusts until he found Makoto's prostate again, but once he did and Makoto responded by arching his back and moaning his name, he began continuously hitting the same spot with each thrust.

“ _Fuck_ , Laurent,” Makoto moaned, wrapping his arms around Laurent's neck and holding onto dear life as Laurent pounded into him. Each time Laurent's cock brushed against his prostate, he felt tension rise in his abdomen, a familiar warmth spreading through his limbs.

He was definitely not overstimulated, but his skin felt sensitive, his cock already leaking precum as it rubbed in between their stomachs with each thrust.

“Laurent, I'm going to- _ah_ , fuck,” Makoto moaned, a particularly hard thrust cutting him off. He looked up at Laurent's face, his expression hard. There were beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin.

Makoto pulled him down and kissed him deeply, licking into his mouth. Laurent groaned and his thrusts became irregular and much faster than before and Makoto knew he was close.

“Come for me, Laurent,” Makoto whispered into his mouth, rolling his hips forward and meeting each of his thrusts halfway.

“Ah, _Makoto_ ,” Laurent groaned, his voice hoarse and so incredibly close, Makoto's name sliding off his tongue so easily, with so much fondness, with something like love that Makoto began feeling the first pulls of his orgasm.

He felt Laurent's arms wrap around him and squeeze him so hard Makoto thought he might stop breathing and with the last few hard thrusts, he came with a loud moan, saying Makoto's name.

That was enough to send Makoto over the edge as well and he came with a groan, squeezing Laurent's still moving hips between his thighs. After a while, Laurent's thrusts ceased and he lowered himself on top of Makoto, resting his head on his chest. Makoto waited until Laurent came down from his orgasm completely, placing small kisses across his face, on his jaw and neck, listening to the content sounds coming from Laurent.

After a while, when Laurent became too heavy on top of Makoto, he lifted himself up and carefully slid out of him. The loss of the comfortable fullness made Makoto shiver, but as soon as Laurent disposed of the condom, he was on top of Makoto again, kissing him deeply, though not with as much passion as before. Makoto could already tell his whole body will be sore the next day.

They kissed and laid wrapped around each other for a while before Makoto decided it was time for him to shower as he did not need to lose the little bit of pubic hair he had over some dried cum. Laurent immediately followed him to the bathroom, just as Makoto expected.

“No funny stuff,” Makoto told him with a stern look, but he could already tell that another round was not happening.

“Am I not allowed to shower with my sweet Edamame?” Laurent exclaimed with his usual dramatics and Makoto really wished he could say he was even slightly annoyed by the man's antics.

Makoto stepped into the shower and turned on the tap. The moment warm water touched his tired muscles, he already began feeling so much better. He heard Laurent walk in after him and then a pair of arms wrapped around his torso. Laurent's wet, naked chest pressed against his back and Makoto's eyes slipped shut as he relaxed under the comforting touch.

They stood there in silence for a while, simply relishing each other's presence. After a moment, Makoto touched Laurent's hands clasped together at his stomach and turned around to face him. Laurent's hair was wet and falling into his eyes (he almost looked like a wet cat, if Makoto squinted), but there was the same gentle smile that Makoto knew so well.

“You know this doesn't mean I'll work for you, right?” Makoto said, trying to sound as casual as possible. He didn't want to discuss this so soon after having sex, but he felt that sooner he addressed it, the better.

There was no hesitation in Laurent's reply. “I know. I'm pretty sure we can date without having to work together.”

Makoto frowned. “Wait, you're actually okay with this?”

Laurent shrugged. “I mean, there's no way I'm going to just change your mind,” he flashed him a grin, “but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop inviting you. Or flirting with you.”

Makoto rolled his eyes, though there was no real frustration behind it. “Of course, you won't. And I _hope_ you're not going to stop flirting with me.”

Laurent leaned in gave Makoto's lips a small peck before pulling away again. “How about I set you with a nice normal job then, hm? I can come visit you. And ask you to join us for another one of my or Cynthia's cons.”

Makoto felt a familiar tightness in his chest and he pulled Laurent closer. His hands travelled up Laurent's back, caressing the smooth skin there. He smiled up at him and hoped Laurent couldn't see the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “That sounds amazing.”

Laurent placed his hand on Makoto's jaw, tilting his head up and kissing him again.

**Author's Note:**

> would you believe me if i said i wrote this for the fake makeout scene and because i really wanted edamame to say the blue-balled line? because that was totally the reason why i wrote this.
> 
> i had so much fun writing these two (although i feel like their characterisation still needs some work on my part) and i'll definitely write more for them *looks at my fleabag au/priest kink tweets*
> 
> anyway, follow me on twitter (@timeacola) for more great pretender related fuckery


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